


the frequency is not an illusion

by wordsareleftbehind (froggydarren)



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, CrissColfer Big Bang, M/M, Underage Drinking, artistic liberties taken with college education details, no Glee, warning for character being hit on while intoxicated (though no harm is done)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5205338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/wordsareleftbehind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the beginning, there’s an unintentional challenge and a set of unfortunate circumstances. A phone number scribbled on the bathroom stall wall. A failed class that needs to be taken during the summer break. Two people sharing one table in the library. A party. Drunken kissing. Text message conversations with a stranger. Somewhere in all that, Chris stops seeing Darren as “Lauren’s loud and obnoxious friend” and Darren stops seeing Chris “as that kid from the class Lauren TA’d”. With their paths crossing in more ways than they realize, it’s inevitable that they end up together. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	the frequency is not an illusion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hysterekial (pureklaination)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pureklaination/gifts).



> This is my (belated, even with an extension) work for the CCBB 2015. When signing up, I didn't think I'd come across as many (ultimately irrelevant to anyone but me) hurdles when writing it, but I did eventually finish. It's not entirely what I set out writing, as fics tend to, but I hope you will enjoy reading it.
> 
> My big thanks goes to [Madd](http://klainernity.tumblr.com/) for her patience with me after she chose my fic to create art for. You can find her fabulous photoset [here on tumblr](http://klainernity.tumblr.com/post/133090933748). (please go check it out, it's really cool!)
> 
> And another big thanks to [Bethany](http://invisibleraven.tumblr.com/) for bringing me through the last sprint to the finish, and really, for everything else this year. You're a star, hon, and I can't say thank you enough :D
> 
> Thank you too to my Beta, [Nomi](http://gnomerino.tumblr.com/) for the never-ending support (and putting up with my comma abuse). I'm lucky that you found me, and that you stuck with me so far!
> 
> The final thanks goes to [Lindsey](http://controlofwhatido.tumblr.com/) for the work she put into running this Big Bang. Thank you, and I'm sorry for the posting delay!
> 
> Dedicated to Cass, who was the first one to see the idea for this, and who encouraged me to write it. Love you!
> 
> Anyway, here it is, happy reading!

It all starts in a way that is a lot simpler than the usual set up for any previous shenanigans that their group got up to. There have been times in the past when anything they did was based on a complicated set of events that somehow _always_ ended up in something that could be considered insane. This time, it is only one offhand comment, a joke that would have been forgotten fast, had it not been for the mood that Darren is in.

"I bet you won't do it."

Really, Joey should know by now that challenging Darren -- even if the challenge isn't intentional -- is a bad, horrible, destined-to-go-wrong idea. Most of their friends know to watch their words around everyone else, Darren more than anyone.

"Joey, _no_ ," AJ says, a little too late.

"There," Darren says with a grin, his phone number already scribbled on the side of the bathroom stall. "Do I win you guys not abandoning me for the whole summer?"

Joey sighs in resignation, and quietly explains that no, Darren can't win what he wants, they are still all going to participate in the summer exchange in Italy, and yes, it is his own fault for failing classes that he needs to make up during that time.

The phone number stays on the stall, though.

-=-=-=-=-

**_1A_ **

College is different than Chris expected, and yet somehow exactly how he pictured it. The halls, the classrooms, the dorms and campus are exactly how they seemed in the brochures and online galleries. They are busy even on the day he arrives, a week before his first semester begins, when he expected to have time to look around and get a feel of the place. There are summer classes, though, so the school is almost as lively as he is expecting it to be when his own classes start.

It's miles from what he is used to at home, Clovis is an absolute desert compared to the noise and activity on campus, and it takes Chris a while to adjust to the constant buzzing of, well, everything. His first semester flies by -- he barely notices time flying partly because he is still figuring out his place -- and before he knows it, he is back from break and right in the middle of the next one, with its less basic classes. His workload doubles, and he spends most of the semester in the library and his room, just trying to keep up with everything.

That semester is when he meets Lauren. He has gone through a growth spurt -- again -- in the past few months, and she is _tiny_ compared to his own height, but that doesn't stop her from being noticeable. She is a TA in one of his classes, and a few weeks in, Chris realizes that it very much feels like he has been adopted by her and by extension Julia -- Lauren's "it's complicated" girlfriend.

Not that he minds, because Lauren lets him in on secrets of the campus that he didn't have time to figure out yet. She tells him about ways of passing his other classes without destroying himself in the process, and she -- to his dismay -- continually tries to drag him out to socialize. She is a spitfire, a ball of energy that Chris doesn't understand but still feels drawn to in a way that he has not before.

"I'm back with Jules," Lauren says one day, apropos of nothing.

"O-kay?"

Chris quirks an eyebrow and he is wondering why she felt it necessary to point out her relationship status. For all he knows, it will change again the next day, and she has not kept him in the loop until now. He cringes a little when he remembers some of the awkwardness that lack of knowledge led to before.

"Just in case you were going to ask me out," Lauren says with absolutely no hesitation.

She almost falls from the sofa when Chris' whole body jerks in shock, and she glares at him from her spot -- she is insisting that Chris' leg is the perfect pillow.

"I … what? Why would I? _What?_ " Chris asks, glad he wasn't drinking anything. "I'm not… I'm gay."

It is the first time he said it this clearly, and relief washes over him when Lauren doesn't flinch or cringe at the confession. But she just smiles and pulls herself back up on the sofa, resting her head back on his leg. Chris automatically starts running a hand through her hair and Lauren sighs quietly.

"It's not… weird, is it?" Chris asks, his voice filled with hesitation as memories from high school take over his mind.

"Nah, you are in an arts program, I could name like ten people who are out," Lauren says and chuckles. "And then there are the ones who claim to be straight but will make out with anyone regardless of gender anyway."

Chris stills, wondering how many of those make-outs have the potential in ending with epic freak-outs once the supposedly straight person sobers up. He is not at all interested in being someone's experiment, not when it would end with him getting insults thrown in his face.

"Have you ever been with someone?" Lauren asks, catching him off guard.

"No," he admits, and he can feel his cheeks burning.

Of course he had crushes, more than just celebrity ones -- he got his confirmation when he developed a huge one on a classmate, though he never acted on it -- but back in Clovis, being gay was not something that was acceptable.

"We should get you hooked up with someone," Lauren tells him; she sounds like it is no big deal.

"I don't think…" Chris starts, but he stops himself when the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of the pizza they ordered when she got to his dorm room.

They don't get back to the topic that day, and Lauren doesn't mention it openly afterwards either. Chris does notice her less than subtle nudging towards parties, though, and he tries to find a way to stop her. She is right though, there are people who are openly out, whether as gay or bi, but Chris still can't wrap his mind around the possibility that any one of them would be interested in _him_.

As the semester passes and exams approach, Lauren eases off of the mission to get him a boyfriend. It is mostly because she gets too busy with school; Chris isn't naïve enough to think she would actually listen to his protests.

Just before exams start, Chris finds out that he has not done enough work in a class, and the only option he has left unless he wants to repeat a year is to stay for the summer. His professor luckily does offer the repeat as a summer class, and Chris signs up without hesitation. The trouble begins when he has to explain it all to his parents.

"No, Mom, I know I promised to come home," Chris says into his phone, the tone of his voice betraying his exasperation with the conversation he is having, "but it's not like I can go up to the professors and tell them that as a reason to _not_ fail me."

It is the third time he is on his phone in as many days, having the exact same conversation with his parents. Mostly his Mom, since his Dad gave up on it after the second one and accepted Chris' explanation for why he would be staying in Michigan for the summer instead of coming home for the break. Not that it is -- as his mother seems to think -- something that is in any way Chris' decision.

He misses them, as much as he allows himself to miss the town he was so happy to escape when he started college, and he definitely hates not seeing Hannah -- his little sister, and the only relatively sane person in Clovis according to his standards. However, though he would never admit his own role in it to his parents, he doesn't want to come back to his hometown after a year because of failing out of college.

"I'll try to find a way to come back for a while," Chris lies easily, already knowing it won't happen.

When he finally pulls the phone from his ear and only just manages to not slam it against his desk, Chris looks at the summer schedule in front of him. Sure, he doesn't mind all that much being stuck in school instead of in Fresno, where he would probably end up in a summer job he would hate. But still, having to study during the two months of what was supposed to be his time off isn't all that pleasant either.

He failed out of a class where, ironically, he knew and became friends with the TA, which -- he'd admitted that to himself a long time ago -- was why he hadn't tried all that hard in class. Lauren did try to tell him as much as she was allowed about what he needed to prepare for, but all his other classes had a heavier load than he'd expected.

"Hey Colfer," a familiar voice tears Chris away from his musings just before he falls into a self-pity spiral.

"Lauren," Chris acknowledges her presence in the doorway to his dorm room.

"You done wallowing in misery?"

She is smirking, and Chris resists snapping at her, because she is somewhat right. He is moping, telling himself he has a right to at least not be _happy_ about the situation.

"When you are done, we are heading to the bowling alley," Lauren says. "Are you going to join us, or do you have another batch of teen angst to get through?"

"I'm not angsting," Chris bristles. "I'm just," he says, letting his hands wave in a gesture that he hopes will encompass his current state of mind.

"Well, whatever it is that you are going, get over it," Lauren says, the tone of her voice not leaving room for any arguments. "Jules said there's a free drink with your name on it when you get there."

Chris isn't sure that drinking -- and there's little hope that Julia will _not_ encourage underage alcohol consumption -- is the solution, but he is also not ready to face either of their wrath. He has been on the receiving end of several lectures on how college is supposed to help with socializing, and they've been enough to last him a lifetime. So, albeit grudgingly, he pulls on a tee and jeans that he knows has been preapproved for evenings out, and follows Lauren out of his room.

**_1B_ **

"We had plans, Joseph, _big plans_ ," Darren sighs dramatically as he slumps on the couch in their apartment.

This is the first year that they haven't lived on campus, opting to rent out an apartment because not all of them got lucky with housing. It has been nice, though, having that little extra space, and more importantly, a kitchen that allowed them to avoid the rather weak meal plans offered on campus. Sure, takeaways were still fairly frequent, but they came as a celebratory option instead of a necessity.

"We did, bro, and you fucked them up by failing your classes," Joey shoots back, unapologetic.

"Hey, I only failed one, and that was because the prof refused to acknowledge the unspoken rule of allowing students to pursue auditions," Darren says, getting annoyed about the failing grade again. "I only missed two assignment deadlines, and he zeroed me out on them."

"He may have been more understanding if the auditions resulted in _something_ ," Joey says.

"Yeah well, don't remind me," Darren huffs. "That was a waste of a flight there and back."

They settle into silence then, Darren still sulking a little. Joey and the rest of their friends have just informed Darren that they'll all be away for the summer. Darren had been hoping that he would get to participate in the summer exchange that the rest of them have been approved for, but since he failed the one class, he has to stay.

"I hate this," he mumbles a while later. "You are all traitors."

"Well excuse us for not wanting to stick around while _you_ go to class," AJ says as he joins them in the living room. "Italy, man, _Italy_."

"Salt in the wound, _Andrew_ , why don't you rub it in," Darren tells him, the pout in his face more obvious than before.

"Oh fuck you too, Daisy," AJ says with a smirk. "You are only cranky because you don't get to go _back_."

"Well, duh," Darren replies, and shrugs. "It is fucking amazing, and instead I'll be stuck here in _one_ class, without any of you to hang out with."

"Time to make new friends, then," Joey says. "Not like that's ever been a problem for you."

"Have you ever seen the people who stay for the summer?" Darren sighs. "They are either incompetent freshies _or_ repeat offenders of the 'used to be in detention all the time in high school' kind."

"I do remember you regaling us with many a tale of _your_ detention adventures," AJ says. "I have a feeling the second kind would be just your blood type."

"Oh screw you, I used to be young and stupid," Darren protests.

"So now you are just stupid?" Joey asks, trying to sound innocent, but he fails at holding back his laughter.

"Fuck you," Darren grunts and sinks deeper into the couch cushions.

He _knows_ it is his own fault that all the rest of them are leaving for the summer, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with -- if anything, it just makes him angry on top of being disappointed. But it is also the fact that it is the whole group, everyone he is close to will be at the same workshop that he'll be missing. Making new friends has never been an issue for him, people _like_ him, but to not have anyone at all who knows him the way these guys do is something he doesn't want to deal with. He managed to escape the lost duckling feeling that people have been mentioning about college, because he almost immediately dove into all extra-curricular activities. That's part of why being left to his own devices seems daunting -- not that he'll say that out loud to anyone.

He is still sulking a week later, when they are all finishing up rehearsal for their latest play -- one that they will not perform until _after_ the Italy trip -- and they are locking up the auditorium. Darren drags his feet, because it is one less time that they are all together before the summer, and he ducks into the bathroom to buy some more time. Of course, Joey finds him only minutes later.

"You just need to make new friends," Joey tells him, looking over notes scribbled over the walls in the bathroom. "I mean, it's not like it's _hard_ for you to talk to people."

"Who do I make friends with that will be here in the summer, though?" Darren asks.

"Didn't Lauren say she has a friend who is repeating a class?" AJ says as he is walking in the door.

"Not so much a friend as one of the freshmen from the class she TA'd," Joey says, and Darren scoffs. "No need to traumatize the poor kid with this idiot."

"Hey!"

"Put up an ad on the site, man," Joey says with a grin. "' _Lonely failure seeks companion to help make it through summer classes hell_ ' or something like that. Someone will bite. Or just leave your number on the wall."

"And have some kind of a perv looking to get blowjobs in filthy corners? No thanks," Darren tells him, but then he notices the glint in Joey's eyes.

"I bet you won't do it," Joey says then.

Granted, it isn't Joey's brightest moment, and Darren is still considering how many dick pictures it will get him, but he scribbles the number on the wall by Joey's head. AJ's protests and warnings fall on deaf ears, and the bright pink Sharpie stands out in the sea of black.

"No taking it back now," Darren says. "Maybe I'll find someone better than you all and I'll ditch you completely."

"That'll be the day," Joey laughs at him as they walk out.

The next day he has all but forgotten about what he did, and he continues sulking at the rest of them as he listens to Julia -- noticing that Lauren is yet again suspiciously close to her -- plan out their schedule for after the summer. None of them leave when the official part of their meeting wraps, and it is Lauren who appears by Darren's side.

"Put the pout away, Criss, you look like someone kicked your puppy," she tells him. "You know the whole martyr thing is easily solved, right?"

"Not that again, Lo," Darren says with a sigh. "I'm not playing babysitter. I don't care how many abandoned kittens in human form you adopted this year."

Lauren lets it go, though she mutters something about her friend being just the appropriate level of nerd to match Darren. The meeting quickly dissolves into a ‘goodbye for the summer’ party, though, and Darren is too focused on drinking himself into a stupor to forget that he is the only one _not_ celebrating the upcoming trip.

By morning, the attempt at conversation is long forgotten.

 

**_2A_ **

Chris isn’t sure why Lauren insisted that they meet by the auditoriums, but he gets there anyway, because she promised him a whole file of notes and tips on how to pass what is now his summer class. It’s not like he is likely to look a gift horse in the mouth, and failing out of something he knows he should’ve passed the first time around has turned into a matter of pride -- getting something akin to cheat sheets aside.

She is taking her sweet time showing up, though, and while Chris knows there was a party the night before that she was going to, his bladder isn’t happy about the delay. He suddenly regrets the amount of Diet Coke that’s helped him make it through the previous night -- he has one last exam later in the day. But when he is washing his hands, his eyes fall on the scribbles on the wall. Amongst the usual random verses from songs and college-typical obscenities, there’s a phone number written in bright neon pink, with nothing but a ‘Daisy’ written next to it in the same color and handwriting.

He frowns at it in confusion. The bathrooms in the theatre student area do occasionally veer towards being unisex, more because of the general art kids’ disregard for rules than the university’s attempt at equality, but he has never seen such an obvious sign of what he assumes is female presence.

When Lauren bursts into the bathroom, it is that disregard for labels that stops Chris from being surprised about her being in there. He is too slow looking away from the number of the wall, and when he turns to her face, there’s a smirk on her lips that makes him dread what she is about to say.

“You should call,” she says simply, to his surprise. “Or text, texting might work better for you.”

“Why, because whoever that is,” he nods towards the wall, “will think I’m just another girl instead of the guy they are hoping for?”

“No,” Lauren levels him with a ‘don’t be an ass’ glare. “Texting because you are better with words that way. Don’t forget I’ve seen you both write _and_ try to talk without going off on a tangent.”

“Okay, fair,” Chris acknowledges, and he glances back to the number. “What’s the point though? What can I offer a random stranger who is leaving their number on the boys’ room wall?”

“Conversation, for starters,” Lauren says, and she shrugs. “Come on, I dare you.”

“Ooh, low blow, Lopez,” Chris says with narrowed eyes.

He is not good with resisting dares, something that Lauren is all too aware of because of the time they spent hanging out together. She was witness to many stunts that started off with a very simple “there’s no way you can manage this” remark that Chris took as a challenge.

“We are off soon,” she tells him after a moment, glancing at the number on the wall. “That’s your challenge for the summer.”

“What, text a random stranger?” Chris asks, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Text _this_ stranger,” Lauren points to the pink writing.

There’s a glint in her eyes that makes Chris wonder if there’s more to the number than just being random, but Lauren levels him with a stare, and he lets it go.

“Fine, Miss Naggy,” Chris says with a sigh, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll save the number, but I make no promises here.”

Lauren watches as he copies the number to his phone, and she grins when he tucks the phone away.

“That’ll do, donkey, that’ll do,” she tells him, and then she tugs him out of the bathroom.

A few days later, Chris is in his first lecture of the summer class, and he knows that Lauren, Julia, and the rest of their theatre group are on a plane to a summer workshop in Europe. He is already bored -- the lectures are a carbon copy of the ones he is already sat through during the regular semester, and he has got Lauren’s notes for them too -- and since Lauren’s phone is off, Chris knows he has very few options to entertain himself. 

The boredom doesn’t get any better when his one lecture is over, and he heads for the library, because he knows it will be the only place quiet enough for him to dive into all the notes he has. Unlike during the semester, Chris immediately finds a spot in a corner furnished with comfortable chairs that he can sink into and relax. There’s no one else around in that corner, and he smiles as he pulls out all his paperwork

There’s one new message on the screen when he checks his phone, obviously sent while he was in the lecture.

_LaLopez - > CColfer: Have you done it yet?_

Chris rolls his eyes and opens his contacts absentmindedly; looking for the one he saved under “Daisy”. It’s there, unopened since he put it there, and Lauren’s challenge resonates through his mind. He takes a deep breath, and then he starts typing. It takes him multiple attempts to come up with an opening message that he is almost happy with, but because of the lecture he has just made it through, his brain isn’t firing on all cylinders.

_CColfer - > Daisy: So, do you randomly carry a pink Sharpie to write your numbers on walls in boys’ bathrooms, or was that just coincidence?_

 

**_2B_ **

Darren has almost forgotten that he left his number in the bathroom when he gets a message from an unknown sender. It takes him a moment to connect the text to the scribbled number, and then he laughs out loud, unable to hold back though he is in the library.

“Shhh,” he hears from across the corner he is holed up in with his laptop, making use of the few electric outlets.

“Sorry,” Darren whispers back.

He looks back at his phone and chuckles, remembering that he didn’t leave his name with the number, only an old nickname that -- now that he is actually thinking about it instead of just acting on impulse -- might be a little confusing.

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: That’s for me to know. And for you to maybe find out?_

He is not holding his breath for a response, and isn’t yet willing to disclose that despite writing down “Daisy” next to the name, he does identify as male. If nothing else, Darren thinks, he might get some semi-decent pictures of a guy. In the worst case, he’ll get harassed and will switch his number.

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: I don’t know that I’m all that interested. Just curious because it stood out in the sea of boring black._

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: What can I say, I’m a mystery. _

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: Mysteries usually tempt me, but I’m not really convinced… Daisy. _

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: And yet you ARE still texting me. _

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: I can stop. But I wouldn’t think you’d be bothered, what with advertising yourself on the wall that way. Though if it is dick pics you are looking for, you are shit out of luck._

Darren lets out a chuckle at the message, and promptly receives a “shhh” from the guy nearby. He leaves the phone on the table in front of him then, allowing himself a moment to think of a suitable response. Instead of texting, he tries to sneakily watch the guy who shushed him, because there’s a nagging sense of him being familiar.

It is only when he is leaving because his lecture is due to start that he remembers the guy hanging around Lauren the previous semester. Darren can’t remember his name, or where Lauren knows the guy from, but he does know that he has noticed the cute freckles and slightly upturned nose. He might not be Darren’s type, but then as the rest of his friends like to say, Darren’s type is “human and breathing”, so it doesn’t exclude this guy either.

He shakes off the nagging voice -- it sounds suspiciously like Lauren’s -- in his head about making new friends, about talking to people outside of their little circle. He has a lecture to get to, and while normally he would easily swap that for the possibility of flirting with someone, this time, he can’t. So instead of stopping to even say hello, Darren glances back at his phone, and types a reply.

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: Ah, and I had my hope up so high. Though hey, I wasn’t advertising myself, just leaving my number out there. Off to a lecture, dear Bathroom Stranger, hopefully I’ll hear from you later._

He switches the phone off, and dejectedly walks into the lecture hall. Attendance in summer classes is mandatory, but it doesn’t mean he is going to be _happy_ about it.

The text exchange gets pushed out of his mind when some people start talking about a party that evening, in one of the frats on campus. Since all his usual friends are -- Darren tries not to think about it too hard -- on their way to Italy, it doesn’t take much to convince him to go. In fact, no one even asks him, but Darren assumes the party isn’t invite-only and heads there anyway.

His hangover the day after is legendary, because of his mission to get absolutely wasted to forget where Joey, Lauren, and everyone else are, and he barely leaves his room for the next two days. It is only when he realizes that the class has some ongoing work that needs to be submitted at each lecture that he ventures further than the nearby coffee shop. He heads to the library, and in the same spot as before, he finds Lauren’s friend -- Darren still doesn’t know if he ever knew his name. Still suffering a lingering headache, Darren just nods in acknowledgment of his study companion, and the guy nods back, clearly unimpressed with Darren’s disheveled look.

It is the comfortable chairs in the library that remind Darren of his text conversation with the “bathroom stranger”, and he pulls up the messages on his phone. There are two still marked as unread, and he eagerly opens them.

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: I don’t know if I should be amused or offended that your name for me spells BS. Then again, you are in my phone as ‘Daisy’, and considering your number was in the boys’ bathroom, that’s mildly confusing. _

The other message is from the morning after the party.

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: I guess I scared you off. I knew I should’ve gone with the nudes._

Darren tries valiantly not to choke on the bottle of water, and earns himself another unimpressed look from the chair on the other side of the library study area. It takes another while before he can breathe normally, and the guy across from him just keeps glaring whenever he looks up from his notes and books.

“Sorry,” Darren mouths when he has finally managed to calm down.

He stashes his phone away, unable to think of a suitably witty response, and he turns back to his own notes, trying to decipher his handwriting.

 

**_3A_ **

Chris packs up his notes angrily, having gotten very little done since the guy -- Chris vaguely remembers him from Lauren’s group of friends -- showed up and turned the quiet study area noisy. He is about to go look for another spot where he’ll be undisturbed when his phone vibrates with a call. It is a number that looks long, and while he doesn’t know Italian prefixes, there’s only one person who’d be calling him from abroad.

“‘lo,” he mumbles into the phone, still shuffling the notes into a somewhat straight pile.

“Christopher, that is a very rude way to answer your call,” Lauren says, starting of with a serious tone, but she dissolves into giggles almost immediately.

“Knew it was you,” Chris says while he is stuffing the papers into his bag.

“What, no secret Italian lover boys who’d be spending their whole week’s allowance on a pitifully short call?”

“Yeah, tons, they just don’t bother me without a warning text beforehand,” Chris shoots at her, but he can feel a smile tugging on his lips. “How’s it going so far?”

“Ugh, jet-lag is an absolute nightmare,” Lauren groans. “Still beats summer school though.”

“Don’t start,” Chris says and sighs.

He has just started looking around he study areas in the library and he is only half-listening to what Lauren is saying about Italy and sunshine and what they’ve been up to so far when he catches the word “party” and his name.

“What?”

 “I’ve heard there’s a party tomorrow, you should show your face there,” Lauren tells him, sounding so serious that Chris can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do that,” he says, sarcasm dripping through every word.

“Colfer, come on,” she says, exasperation obvious even through the static. “You can’t just spend the whole summer holed up in the library.”

“You want to watch me try?” Chris teases.

“Only if you show me photos, I’m not flying back just to watch your boring, miserable self collect dust,” Lauren shoots back. “Seriously, you should at least try to go to the party. It is at someone’s house, so it’ll be small and not completely insane.”

“Oh, like the ones that your friends threw last semester?” Chris says, unimpressed by her attempt to convince him.

“Nah, they are a different level of crazy,” Lauren laughs, and then Chris hears a hiss and a thud. “Sorry, they are somehow taking offense to me saying the _truth_.”

“Well, you do tend to be a little blunt,” Chris tells her, chuckling.

“And you are deflecting,” she replies. “Go to the party, Colfer, it’ll do you a world of good.”

It takes another few minutes of back-and-forth between them, but ultimately Chris agrees to at least show up at the house. He does tell Lauren that he won’t stay long, which she laughs at, and asks him to text her when he has recovered from his hangover. Chris only hears a dial tone in response to his protest that he is not old enough to be served alcohol yet.

He knows that Lauren -- despite not actually saying anything about underage drinking on campus and off -- has a point, and one he has heard all through at least the second semester. It is college, and where there is a need, there is a way, especially when it comes to supplying those who are under twenty-one with substances they shouldn’t legally have access to. He has seen enough parties -- from afar -- to know that the drunk ones weren’t all legally old enough to consume alcohol, and that as long as no one decided to drink and drive, the local law enforcement tended to look the other way.

That’s why it is no surprise that he finds himself with a solo cup in his hand pretty much the moment he walks into the house where the party is held. Chris sniffs it with suspicion, but eventually gives in and starts taking small sips. It is not his first taste of alcohol, but he has enough presence of mind to know that it won’t take much to make him tipsy.

The party is loud and busy, and in his quest for a nook that’s at least a little quieter, he runs into Ashley -- a classmate he was assigned to on a project in his first semester. They haven’t really talked since, but when she greets him with a hug and a smile on her face, Chris wonders if she is generally friendly or if he left such an impression.

“Definitely left an impression,” she says when he asks her about it, a little braver about socializing than he would normally be.

“That’s definitely a first,” Chris tells her, his expression turning into a frown. “Well, besides those times when people remembered me as a potential target. Also known as high school. But hey, small town, not that many people to have to remember to begin with.”

“Uh-oh, small town, pretty boy like you, I’m guessing _conservative_ small town?” Ashley asks, and Chris can feel his cheeks heat up at the ‘pretty’ comment.

“Yeah, not quite the South, but despite being in California, Fresno is about as progressive and your random small town, Texas.”

“I would take offense to that, being a Texan myself,” she tells him, and continues even as he is opening his mouth to apologize, “but I can’t say I disagree. If only Texas were the only state with that kind of a problem. Must be great to have the freedom of a college like this,” she looks around at the party around them.

“It’s been… different,” Chris admits. “There’s a reason why I wasn’t completely devastated by being stuck here for summer school. It still beats being stuck back home, with a summer job in the local library or something similar.”

“Yeah, I can imagine that,” Ashley says, and nods.

Their conversation stalls then, Chris unsure how to carry on one with someone who is practically a stranger and Ashley apparently content to stand with him in silence, observing the people walking past them. In one moment, Chris thinks he can see the guy from the library -- the one who was interrupting Chris’ study time earlier that day -- but the curly head disappears in the crowd too fast.

“So, got your eyes on someone for a summer fling?” Ashley surprises Chris with a question right as he is still trying to see if it is that guy.

“I… what… _no_ ,” he protests, and even he knows it is maybe a little too much. He shakes his head before repeating an empathetic “No”.

Hooking up is _not_ what he is in college for, it is not his motivation for anything -- being at a party included -- but he is not going to pretend that after the nonexistent pool of choices back home, Chris doesn’t mind knowing that he has some here.

“Yeah, boo, I absolutely believe that,” Ashley says with a chuckle. “Who were you watching for just now?”

“No one,” Chris answers quickly. “Well, no one in _that_ way, just this one asshole who thinks the library is the best place to have a phone flirt-a-thon.”

“Aw, jealous already?” Ashley teases, and she nudges Chris’ shoulder hard enough to jostle the arm he has his drink in.

He takes a quick gulp to prevent spilling anything -- the cup is still mostly full -- and he sighs, and then turns back to her.

“So anyway, since I’m a small-town loser, what exactly does one do at parties like this, when I know no one here and the music is useless?”

“Well, one mingles, talks to people, and…” she pauses, and takes a long gulp of her drink, “one takes advantage of the copious amounts of alcohol inevitably present at a party like this.”

None of it is what Chris even remotely considers to be good entertainment, but he gives in. He is there, he might as well stick around for a while, continue hating all these activities and then give Lauren a very detailed description of exactly how boring he found it.

When he turns to ask Ashley if she would want to find a place when they could actually talk without people bumping into them, and without needing to speak louder than usual, he only gets to see the back of her head as she disappears into the crowd of dancing people.

“You go mingle, then, I’ll just stand here,” Chris mutters to himself, and he downs half of the contents of his cup.

The rest of his drink doesn’t last much longer, and Chris debates with himself for a moment whether he should look for more. But his head is already feeling light, and there’s no sign of anyone he knows at the party giving him an incentive to stay. He tosses the cup into the nearest trash can, and starts heading for the exit. When he is almost at the door, he gets thrown off balance by someone stumbling into his side.

“Heyyyy there, sorry, sorry,” the guy says, slurring his words.

“It’s okay,” Chris mutters, trying to push his way past.

“No, really dude I’m sorry,” the guy continues, and Chris glares own where his T-shirt is bunched in the guy’s fingers. “‘s just… I think I drank too much.”

“I’ll say,” Chris says, and he sighs, then he tries to pull his T-shirt out of the guy’s grasp.

“Oh wait, you…” the guy is frowning at Chris, his eyebrows scrunched like he is deep in thought. A moment later, he blurts, “I’m sorry about the library, man.”

“About what?” Chris asks.

It’s only when he gets a better look at the face that’s almost uncomfortably close to his own, that he connects the dots. It is the guy from earlier in the day, the one that kept making noise in the study corner.

“‘s just, funny stuff on m’ phone, y’ know?”

“No, I really don’t,” Chris grumbles, and he finally manages to get the guy’s hand off of his clothes. “Look, I have to go,” he mumbles and slips out of the door without looking back.

When he is outside and the fresh air hits him, Chris realizes that he walked to the party -- it isn’t far from his dorm, and he didn’t think he would last as long as he did -- and the prospect of walking back to his room alone makes him groan. He looks around, hoping to spot someone he knows, but instead he gets bumped into by the same guy from moments ago.

“Y’re still here,” the guy says, the fresh air obviously making him more drunk. “Hi, I’m Darren,” he adds, apropos of absolutely nothing.

Then, before Chris can say anything or process the random introduction, there’s a pair of lips on his own, cutting off any words he might have considered saying.

 

**_3B_ **

When he opens his eyes, Darren immediately hisses at the pain in them, caused by the rays of sunlight streaming into his face. He closes his eyes again, but then opens them to figure out where he is, since his brain is supplying absolutely nothing about it. In fact, he has no idea about anything that happened in the last several hours before he even fell asleep.

“Oh good,” he mumbles when the room around him turns out to be his own.

He is alone, and that floods him with equal parts relief and regret. He can’t pinpoint the reason for the latter, but it is _there_. Slowly, cursing under his breath, he manages to get out of bed -- and oh hey, he was obviously conscious enough to not sleep in his jeans -- and into the bathroom.

Darren’s phone buzzes on his table some time later -- time that he spent trying to hydrate with tap water, since nothing else was at hand -- and he frowns at the time. It is late enough in the morning to tell him that he has slept longer than usual, not that he knows when he managed to get home, or into his bed.

_LaLopez - > DC: You better not be sleeping away the day, asshole._

It is then that he notices several other texts that he slept through, and even a few missed calls from the Italian number that Lauren shares with a few others from the group. That makes him wonder who was looking for him, and he boots up his laptop, cringing when the startup sound is still on his “pre-party dance mix” level.

None of his friends are online though, so Darren packs up his laptop, attempts to flatten his hair into something remotely acceptable, and figures he might as well find some food. He brings the laptop with, because he knows that the library will be less depressing than the apartment -- while he appreciates not being in the dorms, without the rest of the guys, it just reminds him of Italy and how he wasn’t able to go.

One breakfast later, and feeling slightly less like death warmed over, Darren slumps into one of the soft chairs in the library corner where he was the day before. For a while, he thinks he is alone, until he spots a pile of notes and books on one of the tables nearby. The mystery of who is sitting there -- and Darren’s internal debate whether he has the energy to move somewhere else -- doesn’t last long.

“Oh, hi,” comes from his right, and when Darren looks up, he sees that it is the kid from yesterday.

Darren watches as his face goes through a bunch of expressions in quick succession. One of them is clearly surprise, like the kid can’t believe he said anything in the first place, but there’s also annoyance, no doubt because of Darren’s chuckling and noise the day before.

“Hi, I’m Darren,” Darren says, wondering how best to apologize.

Part of him wants to leave, because he never liked staying where he is not welcome, and the kid’s face makes it clear that Darren is a bother, but part of him gets stuck on looking at the face in front of him, the freckles and lips that are getting more red as the kid is biting down on them.

“Yeah, I know, I’m Chris,” is the very last answer that Darren is expecting.

“You… what? How?” Darren asks.

But then he gets a flash of a memory from the party last night, and _oh fuck_ , he does remember running into the kid -- Chris -- there.

“Oh… oh crap, I am so sorry,” Darren blurts out.

There’s a brief flash of disappointment in Chris’ face at Darren’s apology that Darren doesn’t miss, but doesn’t understand. But he doesn’t get to think about it for long, because Chris -- to Darren’s and obviously his own surprise -- speaks up.

“You are one Lauren’s friends, right?” Chris asks as he moves back to his table. “How come you are not in sunny Italy like the rest of them?”

Darren cringes, because it has not been long enough for it to stop stinging that he is stuck in college while his friends are abroad. He doesn’t think it will ever stop, but he makes himself shrug like it is not a big deal.

“I am, and I should’ve been, but one final screwed those plans up for me,” he says, dejected.

“The final or your lack of effort put into it?” Chris says and smirks.

“Ooh, man’s got bite,” Darren shoots back before he can think about it.

He watches as Chris’ cheeks color with a blush, and it is then that Darren realizes that his words could be seen as flirting. And it is not that he doesn’t _want_ to, but he has absolutely no idea if Chris would welcome being hit on, or if he is even into guys.

It is when he watches Chris duck his head and suddenly become very focused on his pile of notes that the memory from the night before hits Darren. It is hazy, but he is aware that he ran into Chris, literally. He wonders why Chris didn’t mention it, but figures that maybe he is not the only one with issues remembering the party.

Since Chris seems like he isn’t going to start another conversation, or that he has any interest in continuing the one they were having, Darren tugs his phone out of his pocket, and starts laying out his own notes. The phone stays quiet all the time that it takes him to compile the scribbles he managed to note down in his lecture, and with nothing else to do -- Chris is still deep in whatever project he is working on -- Darren packs up his stuff and leaves with a quick “bye”.

When he is out of the library, he pulls up the messages on his phone, and sighs with disappointment at the lack of any new ones.

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: So, how does one battle the hangover from hell?_

He can feel the headache starting up again, and he rubs his temples while he is waiting for a response. When none comes for a few minutes, Darren heads to the nearest coffee shop, and slumps into a corner chair. Just as the barista calls out his name -- quietly enough to betray just how many students frequent the shop -- Darren’s phone buzzes with an incoming message.

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: Maybe don’t drink too much? Or at all._

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: Who goes to a party and doesn’t take advantage of the alcohol there?_

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: Me. Now is probably not the time to mention that I went to one and have no hangover at all, right?_

Darren grumbles into his coffee as he reads the text, and huffs.

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: No. Hope you enjoy that I’m suffering._

The text messages stop after a mocking “ha ha” from his stranger, and Darren shuffles slowly back to his apartment. He gives up on studying and digs out his Playstation controller instead. After a moment though, he reaches for his phone again.

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: What are the chances that we were at the same party last night?_

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: I’d say pretty high considering the campus doesn’t hold that many in the summer._

Darren narrows his eyes at the phone, and tries to rummage his memories of the party for the faces he met there. But as he does, his mind drifts back to the library and to Chris. He knows Lauren has talked about him before, and while Darren usually tuned out of her ramblings, he does remember that Chris was in the class she TA’ed, and that she tried to get him to hang out with their group before. After a while, Darren admits to himself that he is definitely intrigued.

 

**_4A_ **

It doesn’t take Lauren’s convincing for Chris to head to a party a few days later. He has been bored in his lectures, and the class projects are the same as when he took the class the first time, so with his own and Lauren’s notes, he is breezing past. It is not late enough in the summer that he would have to worry about quizzes or tests yet, and the party is right in his dorm. He figures that he will not be sleeping because of the noise anyway, and at least the party will have something to entertain him.

This time, he does keep an eye out for Darren specifically -- they still didn’t have a longer conversation in the library, but both of them usually sit in the same spot, and at least acknowledge each other. And it is one face that Chris knows, at least, because he has not made any effort to befriend his classmates. The only person he talks to -- to his own surprise on a daily basis -- is ‘Daisy’, but since they still haven’t exchanged any personal details, it doesn’t feel right to ask them about the party. So far, Chris has not even said anything in the text messages about his own gender, name, or anything else personal.

 

Darren does show up, but it is only after Chris has already burned through the first cup full of whatever cheap beer the party supplied. He can feel the buzz, but unlike the first party of the summer, he already has a second one in his hand. “Oh, hey,” Darren says with a bright smile, and promptly snaps up his own cup of beer from the nearby table. “Wouldn’t have thought you for the partying kind.”

“I’m not, usually,” Chris admits. “Summer is quiet though, it’s not like there was anything else to do.”

“That is true,” Darren agrees, and Chris watches him down almost the whole cup of beer in one go.

“Trying to catch up?” Chris asks when Darren looks around for a refill.

Darren shrugs and takes a few gulps out of the fresh cup of beer, and then he glances around the room.

“So, anything interesting happen so far?” He asks Chris when he turns back to him.

“Crap music, bunch of drunk people, rooms that are too small and hot,” Chris lists with an unimpressed tone. “No, I think it’s just a regular college party.”

Chris looks around, wondering what kind of a party Darren was expecting, and then he turns his eyes to the cup in his hand. It is getting warm, but not enough for him to go looking for a refill, only to motivate him to drink faster. The buzz from the first one is still there, and he knows that his lack of experience is going to knock him down sooner than anyone else at the party.

They both stay quiet for a while, but while Chris is usually okay with silence, he gets twitchy faster than he expect this time. He is not sure if it is the beer, the energy of the party around him, or the closeness to Darren, but he is eager to move somewhere -- anywhere -- else.

“I’m gonna…” he starts and nods towards the drinks table, because the beer in his cup doesn’t taste drinkable all of a sudden.

There are bound to be at least some water bottles, he figures, and he doesn’t wait for Darren’s response before he walks the few steps. To his relief, there’s a cooler with some non-alcoholic drinks, and when he spots Diet Coke, Chris doesn’t hesitate before snagging two cans. When he turns around to go find the nearest quiet corner -- he figures it’ll either be the hallway or his own room two floors up -- he smacks right into Darren.

“You are not leaving, are you?” Darren asks him, and Chris’ eyes widen.

He is not sure if it is the alcohol, or if it is the ‘lost puppy’ expression in Darren’s eyes, but he shrugs and nods towards the door.

“Wanna join me drinking these?” Chris asks.

There’s a glint in Darren’s eyes as he rambles out something about getting a drink, so Chris watches him rush towards the table and then back. Then they head out, and to Chris’ surprise find the staircase empty despite the party being only a few doors down from it. He pulls his knees to his chest as he sits down, and opens one of the Diet Cokes, and then he almost inhales it.

“Thirsty, or just having caffeine withdrawals?” Darren asks, and his voice is closer than Chris expected.

He figures out why when he turns to the step below, and he is met with the sight of Darren’s curls. Chris thought Darren would sit on the opposite end of the stair so they could talk, but apparently Darren decided that he would rather be leaning against Chris’ side. The silence that follows Chris’ shrug -- he is not about to admit just how bad his Diet Coke addiction is -- is way less uncomfortable than when they were still at the party.

Then, and Chris doesn’t know how it even happens, they shift to sit on the same step, with Darren leaning into him a lot more obviously. Chris is slightly buzzed still, so he doesn’t automatically lean or move away, though he knows he would were it anyone else but Darren.

“Hey,” Darren says quietly, and Chris turns to him.

Which is not really the best thing he could’ve done, because Darren’s face is _right there_ and Chris freezes in place.

“Yeah?” He asks instead, his voice just above the level of a whisper.

“You’ve really long eyelashes,” Darren tells him, and Chris can immediately feel his cheeks heating up with a blush.

It’s not like he is used to compliments, besides those from family members that he never took seriously. And one from a cute guy -- he has admitted to himself that something about Darren makes him adorable -- has never happened before.

“Can I kiss you? I kind of really want to kiss you,” Darren says then, and Chris’ heart skips a little.

“Yeah…” he whispers in response a moment later, “... yeah, okay.”

And then there are lips on his, warm and soft, moving slowly like Darren is either afraid to go faster or he wants to enjoy every second. Chris, barely having experience in this, kisses back tentatively, letting Darren take the lead. Then, while he is still processing that they are kissing, Darren’s hand lands on Chris’ hip and tugs him closer, and Chris can feel the warmth of Darren’s fingertips just under the edge of his T-shirt.

He doesn’t dare moving closer, or faster, and obviously Darren is happy with the relatively chaste kissing, which Chris has to admit he is grateful for. Or he would, if his brain wasn’t fuzzy with the alcohol and kissing buzz combined. He has lost track of time, and forgot all about the other can of Diet Coke right behind him, when a loud cheer rings across the hallway making Chris jump.

The drink gets knocked over, and while Darren sits there, his face still a little dazed and a lot confused, Chris scrambles up and rushed up the stairs. He is hidden behind the safety of his room before he can even pause to think about what just happened. Sleep conquers him before he can do anything more than get his jeans off.

When the morning sunlight wakes him up, Chris grumbles because it is a day when he actually has a lecture, and getting out of bed seems like an insurmountable task. His head is pounding enough that he fishes out the painkillers he hates to use -- they make him sleepy and unfocused -- but he knows he has to make it to the lecture hall and at least manage to seem functional.

_CColfer - > Daisy: I take back all the hangover mocking. _

There is no response to his text by the time the lecture is over, so Chris heads to the library, only stopping to pick up some Diet Coke on the way. When he settles in his now favorite chair -- he knows he will miss it when the regular semester starts and he will be pushed out by other students -- Darren is already there, looking about as lively as Chris feels.

For a while, neither of them says anything, and Darren only nods towards Chris in greeting. After the night before, there’s palpable tension in the air though, and Chris debates bringing it up -- they did kiss after all -- but he can’t bring himself to speak up. Like with the very first party, and the kiss there, he wonders if Darren simply doesn’t remember it. After some deliberating, he pulls up his phone and frowns at the lack of response to his earlier text. But since he has no one else to talk to right then, and it’s not something he is willing to discuss with Lauren, he types up another message, cradling his phone in his hand underneath the table.

_CC - > Daisy: So, how would you bring up a make-out session you had with someone when that person isn’t acknowledging you afterwards?_

His phone stays silent though, and no reply shows up on the screen while he is attempting to focus on his notes. Eventually, he gives up and packs his things, because he still feels hung-over and figures sleep might be a better solution that caffeine overload.

The reply to his text message doesn’t come until later that day, waking Chris from his nap, and it’s wrapped in apologies about a phone left behind to charge. He doesn’t get a clear solution to his problem, though, as his texting companion doesn’t seem to know how to go about it either.

A few days later, there’s another party at his dorm, this time on Chris’ floor, which pretty much erases any sort of chance of Chris getting some studying done. So he tugs on a hoodie that he knows is clean, and heads out to get at least some drinks, since he knows he is not going to be able to get peace otherwise. He’s on his second drink when Darren’s curls obstruct his view of everything in the room, and he’s met with a giddy grin.

“I’m so glad you showed up!” Darren tells him, his words only a little slurred from being just past tipsy and heading for drunk.

“Are you?” Chris asks, his eyes narrowed as he’s trying to figure out whether Darren is lying.

“Always am,” Darren says.

There is nothing to show in his voice or expression that it is an admission of something with major unspoken meaning, so Chris guesses Darren is just hanging on to one vaguely familiar person. Not that Chris minds, especially not when a short while later they are back on the staircase like at the last party, and kissing. It’s easier this time, it’s like they are falling into a pattern and everything they have learned about each other the last time has stuck in their brains.

Chris remembers how Darren reacts to fingers twisted in the curls at the back of his neck, and it only takes a few minutes before Darren moves his lips along Chris’ jaw and to the sensitive spot right below Chris’ ear. They are still dressed -- obviously, because they are in a public place -- but Chris can feel Darren’s fingers sneaking under the edge of his hoodie and T-shirt, and the contact to his skin sends shivers across his body. There are no interruptions this time either, and their make-out session lasts long enough for Chris’ buzz to start wearing off.

It’s when his head clears enough to register what he’s doing that he pulls away, and then disappears into his own room without a word of explanation to Darren. Chris knows it’s a cowardly move, but when he’s almost sober, his stomach flutters in ways that aren’t appropriate for only casual drunken kissing, which terrifies him.

Once again, neither of them brings it up in the library the next day, though this time they actually talk, mostly about Lauren and the rest of Darren’s friends. Chris has barely been in touch with her since she left for Italy, and he is curious -- the same summer workshop might be in the cards for him in the future, and he likes to be prepared.

Darren is just in the middle of telling him a story about the town the workshop is in, when Chris’ phone vibrates on the table.

“Crap, I have to take this, it’s my Mom,” he says, and takes a deep breath before shooting an apologetic glance to Darren.

“No, go, it’s important,” Darren says with a smile. “I’ll keep an eye on your things.”

Chris only walks as far as the front door, and answers the call before it switches to voicemail. He is anxious already, because a call in the middle of the day makes him worry about an emergency, and about something having gone wrong at home.

“Hey Mom, is everything okay? Is _everyone_ okay?”

“We’re fine, Christopher,” his Mom answers, and Chris immediately knows the phone call will not be a pleasant social one. “We just haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I’m sorry Mom, it’s just been busy around here,” Chris tells her, bracing himself for her answer.

“Too busy to be in touch? I thought it was only the one class?” She asks, and Chris suppresses a groan. “Are you going to finish early and come home for the rest of the summer?”

 _There it is_ , Chris thinks.

“Mom, you know I can’t,” he says, trying to stay calm and not show his irritation. “The course runs the whole summer, it’s just more intense because it’s less time than the normal semester.”

“Hannah was asking about you,” his Mom says then, after a pause.

“Low blow, Mom,” Chris snaps, this time unable to hide his feelings. “You know I’m not staying here to avoid her. Or you,” he adds as an afterthought.

By the time he’s finished with the call -- it doesn’t take long, because he wants to get it over and done with -- he’s not in the mood for any further studying, or for any more of Darren’s stories. He walks back into the library with determination, and starts packing up his books and notes immediately.

“So, do you know of any parties going on tonight?” Chris asks, still stuffing everything into his bag.

 

**_4B_ **

While Chris is out talking to his Mom on the phone, Darren pulls up his conversation with the stranger who found his number in the bathroom. They’ve kept up their conversation, texting the most random things to each other on a daily basis, but Darren still doesn’t have a clue who he’s talking to. After the last party he was at -- the one that he and Chris pointedly _do not bring up_ \-- they finally got around to at least exchanging information on their genders.

So Darren knows he’s talking to a guy, and that his text companion is gay, and interested in someone he met at that same party. They still didn’t talk about being at the same parties, or whether Darren possibly knows the guy. He does only really talk to and know Chris, so he doesn’t dwell on that thought much, because while there are less people on campus in the summer, there are still enough that the chances of them being acquainted are low.

He does find it odd that with one exception -- the one day that Darren left his phone at home to charge -- the stranger doesn’t text him while Darren is at the library. While at the start it was something that Darren wondered about, now that he has started talking to Chris, it’s a little convenient to not be disturbed by his phone. He’s still looking over the texts when Chris stomps back into their corner and starts throwing his books into the bag.

“So, do you know of any parties going on tonight?” Chris asks him.

Darren can’t help but admit to himself that it wasn’t something he’d expect. Neither of them talk about partying, and Darren assumes it’s at least partly because Chris doesn’t want to bring up anything that happened between them.

“Yeah, there’s one,” Darren starts, and then he waits until Chris looks up from his bag. “It’s not on campus, though. Some guys were talking about a party across the street from our… well, _my_ place this summer.”

“That will do, if you think I can get in,” Chris says and shrugs, like he’s not in the least concerned about the distance from his dorm.

“Yeah, it’s a college one, some of the guys are from my class,” Darren tells him. “I can give you the address, if you want, or…”

He pauses just short of suggesting that he can pick Chris up at the dorms, but that sounds suspiciously like a date, and they’re most definitely _not_ dating. Sure, Chris is cute, Darren is all too aware of that, and he’s smart and funny in this biting, sarcastic way, but whatever happens between them at parties doesn’t spread to their regular days. Not because Darren doesn’t think he would want it to, but because Chris’ silence makes it perfectly clear that it’s not an option.

“The address will do, I’m sure I can find it,” Chris says, and he turns back to his bag to finish packing.

Darren scribbles it down on a page in his notebook and rips it out.

“Here,” he says as he hands it across the table. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just… home stuff,” Chris says, but the tension in his whole body makes it obvious that he is not in the best mood.

But since he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, Darren doesn’t push, and only lets Chris know what time the party is supposed to start. He barely gets a quick 'thanks' in response, and then Chris leaves, still looking angry and decidedly unhappy.

That’s enough for Darren to know that he’s going to the party too, and not because he’s all that keen on getting drunk. If Chris is set on letting some steam off, he is likely to be drinking, and Darren is all too aware of the amount of anger that he would be faced with from Lauren if anything happened to Chris. Staying in the library will not do him any good, because his focus is shot thanks to worrying about Chris, so he packs up too and heads home. On the way, he texts his stranger, because going to a party where he knows Chris will be makes him wonder about their hook-ups, and what he would like them to be.

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: Did you ever figure out how to bring up a make-out session with someone who doesn’t talk about it?_

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: Nope. If they don’t want to, I guess it’s better to leave it alone. _

_DC - > Bathroom Stranger: What if you would want it to be more than just that?_

_Bathroom Stranger - > DC: You might end up losing what you do have. If they were interested, they wouldn’t avoid the topic altogether. _

Something heavy sinks in Darren’s stomach, because that’s not the answer he was hoping for. His stranger has a point -- if Chris wanted their kissing to progress, he would have brought it up, or at least wouldn’t steer all conversation away from mentions of parties -- but that doesn’t mean that Darren likes it.

It’s with that in mind that he heads over to the party a little after the time it was supposed to start. To his surprise, the apartment that it’s in is already full of people, some spilling into the hallways of what is -- to the residents’ advantage -- basically off-campus student housing. He finds the kitchen easily, the layout of the place almost identical to his own, and as he expects, that is where the drinks are laid out. Once he has a bottle of beer in hand, he heads back out into the living room, wondering if Chris has already made it there.

He’s barely back in the main area when a familiar voice -- already slowed down and slurring -- greets him with enthusiasm.

“Heyyyy, Darren,” Chris shouts, though he’s close enough to Darren almost immediately.

Darren steadies him as Chris sways, and they both look at each other -- Darren with worry, Chris with something that looks like amusement.

“You showed up,” Chris says then more quietly. “Didn’t think you were going to.”

“I’m the one who told you about the party, remember?” Darren says, and he chuckles when Chris nods. “Plus, I live right across the street.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Chris says, and he sounds serious for a moment. “You won’t have to go far.”

“No, unlike you,” Darren tells him, and without thinking about it too long, he puts an arm around Chris’ waist. “Do you have anyone to bring you home?”

Darren doesn’t get a reply at first, as Chris is busy downing the beer he has in his hand, and promptly picking up another that he had stashed in his hoodie pocket, which makes Darren frown.

“No, ‘s just me,” Chris says after a while. “No one but me.”

“Man, how long have you already been here?” Darren mutters when Chris’ balance falters again. “And how many drinks did you have?”

“Not many,” Chris blurts, sounding almost defensive. “But I tried beer pong,” he adds then, a giddy and proud grin on his face. “Tequila is fun!”

“I’m sure it is,” Darren says and he sighs. “Come on, let’s find a quieter spot,” he suggests then, hoping to get away from the crowded apartment for a while.

Chris luckily doesn’t protest, and he lets Darren lead him into the kitchen. It’s not really quiet, but people only walk in and out while getting their drinks, and no one lingers around. Darren pulls out two water bottles out of the fridge, and he hands one over to Chris.

“Drink that,” he says. “The tequila is going to hit you hard, especially combined with the beer.”

Chris sips on it obediently, which makes Darren breathe a sigh of relief. He gets up then, and checks that Chris is leaning against the wall -- they sat down on a table in the corner earlier -- so that he doesn’t come back to him injured.

“Hey, I’m going to the bathroom,” Darren says, and he points to the water. “Keep drinking that, and don’t go anywhere.”

“Mmmkay,” Chris hums, and brings the bottle back to his mouth.

Darren makes his way through the people in the apartment as fast as he can, but still, by the time he gets back to Chris, there’s a guy standing a little too close for comfort.

“I’m in line for the British throne, y’know,” Chris is telling the guy. “‘m practically royalty.”

“I’m sure you are,” the guy says, and Darren _doesn’t_ like the smile in his face.

Chris doesn’t move when the guy steps even closer, and Darren’s blood boils at the sight. He’s not yet ready to examine just why he’s feeling angry at someone for hitting on Chris, but his next move is driven by instinct.

 _I’m keeping him safe_ , he tells himself when he walks across the kitchen and stands by Chris’ side.

“Hey honey,” he says in an overly cheerful tone. “Miss me?”

“Hmmm?” Chris turns to him, ignoring the guy on his other side. “Oh hey,” he says then, and his smile is soft and warm, which catches Darren off guard.

It’s a smile that he didn’t see on Chris’ face besides one time when he got a call from his sister while they were in the library, and Darren knows affection when he sees it. But it’s the fact that it’s directed at him that makes it surprising, because he thought that whatever kissing happened between Chris and him was just casual on Chris’ part.

“How about we wrap it up and go home?” Darren says after he’s shaken off his surprise. “I think we’ve had enough of the party.”

“Mhm,” Chris hums in agreement.

Darren shoots a look to the guy who is now glaring daggers at both of them, and then he wraps his arm around Chris again to stop the obvious swaying. Luckily, the guy seems to buy into the idea of them being together -- which is what Darren was going for -- and he lets them pass.

“I can’t carry you,” Darren says when they get to the staircase. “Are you okay to walk?”

Chris nods, but his steps are shaky and unbalanced, so Darren keeps his arm around him all the way across the street. Luckily, his own apartment is only on the first floor, and they manage to get there safely, even though the fresh air seems to up Chris’ level of inebriation.

“Y’re a good friend,” Chris mumbles when Darren helps him lie down on the bed in his own room. “And cute. Lauren didn’t say y’re cute. ‘s the curls.”

Darren chuckles, though he also feels his cheeks warm with a blush, and he tucks Chris in. By the time he walks to the kitchen and returns with a bottle of water and some painkillers, Chris is already out for the count. Darren leaves them on the nightstand, and grabs a blanket, figuring if he sleeps across the hall in Joey’s room, he’ll wake up in case Chris calls for him.

 

**_5_ **

Chris tries to suppress a groan when he wakes up, because his head feels like it’s going to burst open, and his eyes are stinging. Immediate regret about his decisions from the night before flood his mind, but they stop and get replaced by panic when he looks around and doesn’t recognize the room he is in.

The night that caused his headache is coming back to him in flashes -- he remembers being offered tequila shots, and failing miserably at beer pong at first -- and when he tries to move, he notices that he’s still fully dressed. That makes him breathe out in relief, and with that he gets another flash of a memory: some guy he’d never seen before standing closer than Chris usually allows, Chris rambling about the British royals and the guy leaning in. It’s the memory of Darren that carries the same feeling of relief, though that’s as far as it goes -- he doesn’t know _why_ he was relieved when Darren was there, or what happened then.

 _I’m dressed, that’s not a bad sign_ , he thinks, and he makes an attempt to move.

When he does let out a groan at the pain that shoots through his head, the door opens to reveal Darren. Chris freezes, and he knows he probably looks like a deer caught in headlights, because that is exactly how he feels.

“Um, hi,” he mumbles, and his cheeks heat up as embarrassment takes over.

“Hey,” Darren says quietly -- Chris is silently grateful -- and he points to the nightstand. “There’s some water and painkillers, I guess you didn’t see them yet?”

Chris looks over to spot them, and then turns back to Darren. When he tries to shake his head the headache hits again, and he brings his fingers to his temples instead. The pressure of his fingertips doesn’t help though, and he goes to reach for the water and pills. Darren is already there, and Chris takes the two pills and the bottle with a mumbled ‘thanks’.

“So,” he says after drinking almost half of the bottle. “I’m … sorry. I can’t remember last night much, but I guess you got stuck babysitting?”

Darren sits down on his desk chair only a few steps away from Chris, and he shakes his head. There’s a hint of an amused smile on his lips, but it doesn’t seem mocking -- Chris wonders why it looks affectionate instead.

“Just making sure you were okay,” Darren tells him. “Lauren would have my head if something happened to you, and the guy…”

Chris -- despite the pounding headache -- doesn’t miss the way Darren’s eyes darken with what looks like anger.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” he says instead of asking about Darren’s reaction. “Tequila is… does weird things to me.”

“Apparently it makes you a royal?” Darren says, and the amusement is clear. “You should tell me about that one someday.”

“Oh no,” Chris groans, and he hides behind his hands, embarrassment flooding his cheeks with heat. “I’m seriously so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I do want to hear about that, how come you never talked about your fascination with history before?”

“There are things that you don’t need to suffer,” Chris says, and he sips on the water some more. “Like how I can talk random historical facts about everything in Europe, as Lauren and Julia can attest to.”

“You talk to them recently?” Darren asks, because he heard from Joey and AJ more than from the girls.

“Oh, last week, Jules had this big romance thing planned for Lauren where they were going to go to Venice,” Chris starts rambling, and Darren’s eyes widen when the words register. “But I think she hates me a little for not being helpful, since apparently knowing the exact location of _the_ balcony is not all that important to her trying to be romantic,” Chris continues, oblivious to Darren’s reaction.

“Oh, so they’re…” Darren says when Chris stops talking.

“Ah, yeah, you didn’t know?” Chris looks hesitant as he asks, and he isn’t sure if he was supposed to be quiet about it or not.

He _is_ aware of how there are and were several romantic entanglements in the friends group around Darren and Lauren, but he wonders if this is one of those that are stepping on someone’s -- well, Darren’s -- feelings.

“No, I…” Darren says with hesitation, but there’s a smile tugging on his lips. “They’ve kind of been on and off, and who knew when they were what, but if they’re happy, good for them.”

“Oh… were you and Lauren,” Chris starts, but he gets interrupted by a burst of laughter from Darren.

“No, oh no,” Darren says between chuckles. “Sorry, no, that’s _one_ of the combinations that would’ve gone absolutely horrible. Lauren and I… yeah, no. Jules and I had a thing years ago, though.”

Chris swings from relief at the comment about Lauren to disappointment -- he tries hard not to show it -- about Darren and Julia. Or, if he’s honest with himself, Daren and girls. Because they kissed, but it’s college, and for all that Chris knows, it’s all been just an experiment for Darren, or something that he doesn’t want to stick with.

He doesn’t want to ask, though, because they still haven’t talked about any of the times that they ended up kissing at a party. Chris wondered before if Darren was waiting for him to mention it, but now he is sure that it’s something that Darren wants to keep at parties, and not in their daytime moments.

What still bugs Chris, though, is that he doesn’t remember how they got to what is clearly Darren’s place -- there’s a familiar hoodie on the back of a chair, Darren’s guitar propped up against the wall, and notes in a handwriting that Chris recognizes.

“Hey, thanks again for last night’s save, at the party,” Chris says, each word coming out slowly. “I didn’t… do anything stupid, did I? Like throwing up on you, or make inappropriate moves…”

That is the closest that either of them went to mentioning that they did kiss before, and Chris is tense while he’s waiting for Darren to answer.

“No, _no_ ,” Darren says, and he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t… no, you were so drunk, I just wanted to bring you somewhere safe, and I would _never_ ,” Chris sucks in a breath at the word, but Darren continues without noticing, “take advantage of someone that drunk. Especially not you.”

 _Oh… OH_ , Chris’ brain lights up with all the possible implications of Darren’s words. He manages to mumble a “thank you”, and then -- he is lost in his thoughts enough that it barely registers -- he hears Darren say something about breakfast.

When he’s alone in the room again, Chris grabs his phone from the nightstand he spotted it on earlier, and pulls up the messages to the only person whom he has talked to about Darren, albeit without mentioning names.

_CC - > Daisy: So, if you woke up in the bed of the person you kissed before, and wanted to kiss again, how would you invite yourself to stay?_

There’s a silence, and Chris listens to the suspiciously loud banging noises coming from the kitchen, but he isn’t ready to leave the room yet. His phone beeps a short while after, before he starts panicking.

_Daisy - > CC: If you’re in their bed, I’m pretty sure you’re already invited to stay._

_CC - > Daisy: Not THAT way. Nothing happened, besides a friendly save from my own alcohol-addled brain and lack of common sense. _

_Daisy - > CC: Still, you’re in their bed. That’s a pretty clear sign they want you there._

_CC - > Daisy: So, if he said that he would never take advantage when I’m too drunk, that’s a good sign, right? _

Chris presses send, and moments later something heavy clatters loudly to the ground in the kitchen. He’s about to call out to check if Darren is okay when the door opens, and Darren walks in, his fingers tight enough around his phone that Chris can see his knuckles turning white.

“I’d say if you wanted to invite yourself to stay,” he starts, and Chris’ hearts starts pounding in his chest, “all you have to do is ask.”

Time stops for Chris when those words sound through the silence of Darren’s room. Or at least it might as well have, because the only thing that exists for him in that moment is the beat of his racing heart and the words repeating a few times in his mind. It’s only when Darren starts looking panicky, like he’s sure he just misread the text and their situation that Chris opens his mouth to speak.

“I… you… Daisy?” The name from his contacts slips past his lips, and for a second it seems insane.

There’s no way -- though everything right now points to it being true -- that the guy he’s been _kissing_ at parties, the guy he’s been slowly falling for during mostly quiet library study sessions, and the guy he’s been texting _about_ the guy he’s been kissing are all the same person. But Darren nods, and blinks a few times before taking a step closer, phone still in a tight grip of his hand.

“Bathroom Stranger,” he whispers quietly, and it’s not a question.

“Is that seriously the name you’ve been calling me?” Chris asks, and cringes at the slightly hysterical hitch in his voice.

“It’s not like we ever talked names,” Darren says, and his expression is changing from surprise to something a lot warmer, something that seems like _fondness_.

“Maybe we should have,” Chris whispers when Darren sits down next to him on the bed.

“Yeah, maybe,” Chris agrees, suddenly unsure of what he should do.

Darren takes the decision out of his hands when he reaches for Chris’ hand and links their fingers together, then rests them on his own knee. Chris looks down, his heart still faster than usual, and then he looks up to meet Darren’s eyes.

“So, is it okay if I kiss you?” Darren asks with uncharacteristic shyness, like he’s asking something monumentally important.

“Isn’t it a bit too late to be asking permission?” Chris says teasingly, and leans a little forward.

“Well, I wasn’t sure…” Darren starts, but Chris’ patience runs out in that moment, and he decides that he had enough talking.

The kiss is yet again different from any of the ones that Chris remembers -- and he’s sure he recalls more than Darren, especially the very first one -- but it’s closest to the one that started it all. It’s gentle, and Darren is very clearly waiting on cues from Chris, at least until Chris lifts his free hand and brings it to Darren’s neck. Once his fingers slips into the curls there and tug a little, Darren moans into Chris’ mouth, and almost immediately the air around them thickens.

Darren’s hand is on Chris’ waist moments later, and they twist until Chris decides that they should be a lot more horizontal. There _is_ a bed that they’re sitting on, so he leans back and pulls Darren with him, not breaking the kiss until Darren follows along.

“Are you sure?” Darren asks.

“Come on, I’m sober, no one is taking advantage, and there is a perfectly good bed that we can make out on,” Chris says, slightly surprised by his own boldness.

It’s Darren though, Darren whose curls and smile he spent days staring at in the library under the guise of studying. Darren who kissed him when Chris wanted to escape a party, Darren who pretended to be his boyfriend to scare away a creep hitting on Chris.

“Hey, so,” Chris says, and he lifts his head from the pillow just enough to drop a small peck on Darren’s lips.

Before he can finish the sentence, Darren leans down, following Chris’ lips, and deepens the kiss. Chris can feel Darren’s tongue sliding along his bottom lip and he kisses Darren back hungrily, like they haven’t had the chance in weeks.

“So?” Darren asks when they both break away to take a breath, and he’s smiling down at Chris.

“What?” Chris asks back, confused and a little dizzy from the kiss.

He’s fighting the urge to lift up and keep kissing Darren, to tangle his fingers in the dark curls and to pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

“You were going to say something a moment ago,” Darren prompts, and he leans down for a quick kiss on the tip of Chris’ nose.

“Oh… _oh_ ,” Chris says as he remembers. “I was going to ask if what you did last night, with the guy at the party…”

“Is that something you want?” Darren asks, obviously understanding what Chris is trying to say. “The dating thing?”

Chris nods, and that’s enough of an answer for Darren, who leans back down for another kiss. This time, his hand doesn’t stay safely on the covers, but Chris feels it slipping under his T-shirt, caressing his side while Darren’s tongue dips past Chris’ lips.

“Not now though,” Darren says when he pulls away for a moment.

“No, this is good now,” Chris says and he smiles, pulling Darren back down to go back to the kissing.

Their clothes do stay on, but Chris’ hands wander down Darren’s back slowly, and he finds it in himself to reach low enough to dip a finger below Darren’s waistband. Darren, on the other hand, has no restraint and his hand spreads over Chris’ ribs until his thumb brushes against Chris’ nipple, eliciting a moan that gets muffled by their kiss. It doesn’t take long before Chris finds it hard to keep his hips flat against the bed, especially because he can feel the effect that he’s having on Darren.

Eventually they stop, though Darren stays on top, his knees on either side of Chris’ hips and he keeps smiling between gentle kisses to random parts of Chris’ face.

“Hey, by the way,” Chris asks, the thought striking him out of the blue. “Did Lauren know it was your phone number on the bathroom wall?”

“It’s possible,” Darren says, and then he frowns. “But even if she didn’t, she knows my number, so she would have recognized it.”

“That explains so much,” Chris mumbles, mostly to himself, as he remembers Lauren urging him on to text the mystery person.

“Hey, it turned out for the best, didn’t it?” Darren says, and he slides to Chris’ side, tucking his face into Chris’ neck for a beat.

“Yeah,” Chris turns his head to Darren, and he smiles, “yeah it did.”

“We’ll just have to deal with her later,” Darren mutters against Chris’ shoulder. “Can we sleep some more now, though?”

“I thought you were making breakfast,” Chris says, and chuckles when Darren’s response is a groan.

“Later,” Darren tells him after a while, wrapping his arm around Chris’ waist. “Don’t wanna move.”

Chris laughs again, and he slips his arm under Darren, happy to stay exactly where he is for the time being. Breakfast can wait.

 

-=-=-=-=-

“Wait, wasn’t the requirement for the workshop to be an active student of an arts program,” Lauren asks when she tugs a pile of T-shirts out of Chris’ drawer and moves them into his suitcase.

“Yeah, why?” Chris asks, trying to squeeze an extra pair of socks into the corner of the half of a suitcase he already filled up.

“So how come _Darren_ is going?” Julia asks from her spot by the window, where she is ‘observing’ according to her own words.

“Exactly,” Lauren nods. “I know he passed that stupid class that kept him here last summer, so what gives? Did you guys pull some strings or what?”

Chris blushes, partly because he’s remembering how it all started, and partly because he knows why Darren is across the hall, packing up their things in the bathroom.

“Well, he’s not really going there as a _student_ ,” Chris says quietly, the tips of his ears burning.

“Wait, he’s... “ Lauren says, and she narrows her eyes as she processes the information Chris just gave her. “Is he going to be an _instructor_ at the workshop?”

“Do they know you two are practically married and living together?” Julie adds from her window seat, barely managing to conceal her laughter.

“Are you two going to Italy to have an illicit romance?” Lauren says, and her eyes are bright with amusement.

Chris can’t say anything more, so he focuses back on stuffing things into his suitcase, and he waits for the two girls to get their laughter over and done with. Because yes, in the year since the previous summer, he’s been dating Darren -- their first anniversary is coming up -- and somewhere between the winter and spring semester, Darren has asked him to move into the apartment after AJ moved out. Since then, the room that was originally AJ’s and then Chris’ has been turned into a music room, because -- not that anyone was surprised -- Chris spent most of his time in Darren’s room anyway.

And when Chris got the offer to do a summer workshop in Italy, one focused on screenwriting rather than performing arts like Darren’s two years earlier, or the rest of the group’s last year, Darren spent a week sulking at first. But then he reached out to the company organizing the workshops, and after surprisingly little convincing, he got himself an instructor spot for the performing arts program.

Chris finally found out the origins of “Daisy” then, when he overheard one of the Skype calls and the Italian instructor’s pronunciation of “DC”. Darren has apparently gone by that as a nickname ever since with the people he attended the workshop with, so Chris was looking forward to teasing him about it during the summer.

Now, however, he would have to survive another day at least of Lauren and Julia -- and inevitably everyone else from their group -- teasing _them_ about the student and teacher thing. Not that Darren was going to be the instructor in Chris’ program, but Chris already knew that argument wouldn’t be considered at all.

“What’s up?” Darren asks when he walks into the room and the girls, who were finally getting close to not laughing, burst out in giggles again.

“Just wondering,” Lauren starts, and Chris groans at the tone of her voice. “Is Chris going to have to call you Mr. Criss?”

Julia roars in laughter, and Lauren joins her immediately when she sees Chris’ face turn red, and Darren’s eyes widen in shock.

“You told them?” Darren asks Chris, but he doesn’t sound angry, just disappointed. “They’re never going to let us live this one down.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Chris admits, and he shrugs when an idea strikes him. “Maybe now is the time to bring up Lauren’s matchmaking ambitions?”

Lauren freezes mid-chuckle, and so does Julia, who throws her a curious look. Before either of them can react any further, Chris and Darren are the ones laughing. Chris looks up at Lauren’s face that resembles a startled bunny, then Julia’s puzzled expression, and he thinks back on how he bemoaned having to repeat a class a year ago.

 _It didn’t turn out that bad_ , he thinks as he leans against Darren, who doesn’t hesitate and wraps his arm around Chris’ waist immediately, turning to him for a kiss.


End file.
